


Just Another Incident in the Alcohol Storage Room

by icedteainthebag



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-20
Updated: 2010-09-20
Packaged: 2017-10-21 19:09:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/228635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icedteainthebag/pseuds/icedteainthebag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ellen Tigh ruminates on how great she is and seduces a nugget in the process.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Another Incident in the Alcohol Storage Room

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Raspberry Swirl](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/3973) by geekbynight. 



> Set sometime pre-series and a rare foray into first-person POV. Thanks to [](http://geekbynight.livejournal.com/profile)[**geekbynight**](http://geekbynight.livejournal.com/) for letting me frak with her story.

My name is Ellen Tigh, and if what I just did makes me an alcoholic, then so be it.

I've scored big time, and I'm pretty frakkin' happy about it. I'm not sure anybody realizes that all it takes is a quick blow job in the mechanic's head to gain access to the key to _Galactica_ 's sacred alcohol storage room.

Well worth it. _Well_ worth it. Better than any currency.

I go for the good stuff first. Ambrosia tastes so good going down.

Much better than that guy I just sucked off.

I set aside a bottle to bring back to Saul. Oh, Saul. I don't think anyone realizes how much I love him. Frak, I don't think I realize how much I love him sometimes. It's just that he's never _around_ and when he _is_ all he does is talk about the Great Bill _Adama_ and it's so frakking _boring_ when all I've done is sit around all day counting down the days to shore leave. There are only so many places one can visit on a ship. I want to go to the frakkin' _beach_ and get oiled up by some tanned, young pool boy.

Or, you know, my _husband_.

So I'm lounging on these boxes that I plan to break into very shortly when in walks the pretty young nugget with the long, dark hair and the lovely doe eyes--she looks so gods damned innocent all the time. But… _but_ … I've noticed she's been looking at me way more than's necessary lately.

So convenient that she's stumbled upon me in my best state.

Saul tells me this one, I think her name's Boomer, always fraks up her landings and puts holes in the deck. He bitches that he doesn't understand how Bill can tolerate her frak-ups, but as I lay eyes upon her now, I've got a pretty good idea as to why Bill keeps her around.

He was always fond of a tight little ass.

"Are you drunk?" she asks. Simple as that.

When am I _not_ nowadays. Oh, sweet innocence. Sweet… _corruptible_ … innocence.

"I am," I declare, standing up and walking toward her. "And I'm horny as frak."

I'm an honest woman. It's why Saul likes me so damn much.

She looks caught in the headlights. I do that to people. "I… you… "

I'm close to her now and I sense the telltale signs of a hard-working nugget--a little sweat, a little grease, a little bit of attitude she still clings to despite their frequent attempts to work it out of her. I push the door shut behind her and she backs up against it. My chest brushes hers.

"You were saying?" I purr. I've mastered this shit. It rarely fails me.

"This is… wrong," she stutters.

Oh, _precious_. I grin at her, running my finger over her lips.

"No need to worry, it's just the two of us in here."

That's all it takes. I see the realization in her eyes. She wants to let loose but she is rarely given an opportunity to do so. Rigid discipline, structured routine. This is where I come in, no strings attached.

Every seduction is an exercise in power. I get off on it, probably too much, but it's the only control I have sometimes in this frakkin' miserable excuse for an existence as the XO's wife.

I get her on the floor easily--I'm on my back and she's above me with her curious expression, one of cautious acceptance--and our hands are everywhere. She's surprised to find that I'm wearing a corset. She's so _sweet_ as she traces the laces and a low moan escapes her.

"You like it?" I ask, sifting my fingers through her silky, gorgeous hair. I'm not above begging for praise.

She blinks hard and nods. "Yeah," she says. "Yeah, I do."

It's so nice to get a reaction like that out of someone for once. It's one of the finer points of _seeing_ new people all the time. There's a mystery to discover in each one of us.

Of course, her stunned reaction makes me wonder what other reactions she's having, and I'm not shy in my desire to find out. I feel her shiver as my hand slides down the front of her pants, and holy _frak_ , she likes it. She likes it a _lot_. Her hips buck against my hand and I tease her, circling that little spot that makes her breath catch and tongue slide across her parted lips.

I want to make this girl pant; I want to make her writhe and pull my hair and come undone beneath me.

But, first, it's my turn. She knows it. I love being worshipped. I think I picked the right girl to do so.

She seems nothing if she isn't willing. Bill's found himself a good one.

Her mouth is hot and wet on my nipples; she takes a minute to get the hang of it. This might be new for her. But when she catches on, it sends a tingle across my skin. I moan as I work my palm against her, fingers inside her, and she suddenly stops what she's doing to tilt her head back and moan, her hips undulating against my hand.

"That's it," I whisper. Frak, I'm getting off on it too, sweetie. No worries.

I press harder against her slick heat, grinding my palm against the hardened nub under it. Like riding a bike, it's coming back to me. Her breathing changes and her hips begin to jerk erratically. I watch with a smile and she lets loose this tiny cry like a lost little kitten when she comes, her head falling to my chest.

Oh, how adorable is _she_?

I pull my hand out from between us and she looks up at me just as I'm taking a taste of her off my fingers. She looks awestruck, mesmerized. I know I do this to people; I've seen that look more times than I can count. I grin at her and slide my fingers over her lips as well. Her tongue follows.

"That's a good little nugget." I grab her hands and move them downward, pressing them against the outsides of my thighs. I've been good to her and it's time for her to return the favor.

She looks intrigued. I'm an intriguing gal. Her eyes narrow studiously as she moves down my body.

"Don't be shy," I say, pulling up my skirt. I'm so wanton I nearly laugh at myself. Frak _me_ , I'm amazing. "I know you want to."

Who wouldn't?

She slips my panties down my legs. She's not looking at me; seems she's distracted by what she's just revealed. Doesn't matter to me. I'm interested to see if she takes on this mission with as much tenacity as the ones my husband sends her on.

The idea makes me wetter. I'm such a bitch sometimes.

I push her head down gently, lifting my hips and letting loose an encouraging whimper of expectation. She finally looks up at me, and there's something behind her gaze that catches my attention. It's usually after somebody comes, really lets their guard down, that you see their true nature. Looking at her, this girl's got secrets.

Baby, we've _all_ got secrets.

"I can tell you're new to this, so let me teach you something, dear," I purr. "I call it the swirl…"

She chuckles, her fingers tracing my bare thighs. "Ellen, I already know it."  
  



End file.
